


Watch Me, Video surveillance camera!Jared and Video surveillance camera!Jensen, PG

by meus_venator



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: AU, Crack, Gen, Inanimate Objects, Video surveillance camera!Jared, Video surveillance camera!Jared/Video surveillance camera!Jensen, Video surveillance camera!Jensen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 01:54:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2370119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meus_venator/pseuds/meus_venator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen was a top of the line video surveillance camera, until he wasn’t.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watch Me, Video surveillance camera!Jared and Video surveillance camera!Jensen, PG

**Author's Note:**

  * For [big_heart_june](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=big_heart_june).



> This was prompted by a video cam gif by everything1s that was posted by [](http://big-heart-june.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://big-heart-june.livejournal.com/)**big_heart_june** and I immediately thought of J2 surveillance camera fic...

  
  
**Title:** [Watch Me](http://meus-venator.livejournal.com/70321.html)  
**Author:** [ **meus_venator** ](http://meus-venator.livejournal.com/)  
**Beta:** [ **fufaraw** ](http://fufaraw.livejournal.com/)  
**Paring:** surveillance camera!Jared/ surveillance camera!Jensen  
**Genre:** RPF AU, crack!fic  
**Rating:** PG  
**Length:** 5,500  
**Warnings:** Inanimate object J's  
**Summary:** Jensen was a top of the line video surveillance camera, until he wasn’t.

 **Author’s Note:** This was prompted by a video cam gif by everything1s that was posted by **big_heart_june** and I immediately thought of J2 surveillance camera fic...  
* shakes head * I’m so far gone I see them in everything, at least I’m not alone.  
So it seems only right to gift this fic to **big_heart_june** , not only for inspiring it to begin with, but because she is the enabler of all things J2 and fuels us daily with awesome images and snippets about the boys.  
Thank you for sharing the bounty hon!

gif by everything1s

which I am positive was inspired by this gif

 

 

: : :

Jensen had always taken his career in security seriously, for him it wasn’t just a job it was a calling. Maybe because his dad had been part of Nasa’s JPL Sentry System program from the early sixties patrolling and protecting earth, but for whatever reason, a career in security was hardwired into him. It ran in other parts of the family too, with his mom and grandmother also coming from a strong if slightly lower profile surveillance background.

His grand ambitions were crushed early on though when he found out he needed corrective lenses. For a while it sent him into a spiral of depression, but then his mom talked to him and he realized a career in video surveillance with quadruple magnification auto zoom instead of ten or hundred times zoom wasn’t the end of the world. It sure wasn’t defending earth from imminent threat but every rower found his oar eventually.

He started out well too, with a great position, security at an elite national bank chain. His career was off to a stellar start. He was young and flying high, fresh out of the package, charged with the lofty assignment of keeping the main branch in Washington D.C. safe.

World by the tail and nose to the grindstone it was no time before he became the bank's most trusted worker.

Genevieve, one bracket over, was jealous. “How does a newbie like you rank the plum assignments? Sheesh, head camera over the vault! I’ve been here for six years and I’ve never got past hallway duty.”

Genevieve sighed and Jensen felt more than a little bad for his friend. He glanced at her, then looked away quickly so that she wouldn’t know he'd seen her with her lens clouded up. He tried to ignore the faint whir of her rotors as she focused and refocused in an effort to keep from crying.

Jensen ground his communications flaps together in frustration. His friend was warm and friendly and funny, but it was simply a matter of age. He didn’t want to appear ageist, but as an Ackles 3000, 300 GHz video surveillance wall unit, fresh off the line, his targeting system and zoom rate were up to date. He didn’t want to toot his own horn but with bluetooth backup and double redundant systems, he was state of the art. He shook his head sadly. The Gen2000 was never meant to be more than a glorified crowd watcher, in fact he was surprised she had made it inside the branch at all. Usually Gen’s were relegated to outdoor surveillance and left the big boys for the more detailed work, where competition for key positions was fierce.

Speaking of cutthroat though, the one he had to watch out for was Danneel, on his left, guarding the main entrance of the bank. Physically she had his back, but in reality the Dann-EEL 4000 had even greater recognition software than the Ackles line. The only thing that had kept Jensen in the catbird seat had been a last minute software upgrade and rumors of a gear glitch in the 4000 that had kept Danneel in her place. It also didn’t hurt that his night vision was readable in the green/black spectrum whereas Danneel’s was red/black and the security staff found it harder to stare at for long periods of time. Jensen was under no illusions, though; he was one upgrade away from being bumped. He’d have to enjoy it while it lasted and make sure he did the best job he could to stay in place.

“Oh Gen, get over yourself. You’re lucky you even have hall duty, trashy little unit like you. You know they normally use your model in school yards, don’t they?”

Genevieve sniffed and Jensen could see her lens blinking, the small wiper squeegeeing over her lens again and again. “I love children.” She whispered. “Maybe I’d be better off there than mounted next to a bitch like you.”

Jensen rolled his visor toward the ceiling, “Ladies, please, let’s be civil. It’s up to all of us to do our best to protect the bank.”

“Jensen, you’re such a Boy scout, remind me to gloat when they take you off your high mount.” Danneel tossed her viewport in the air and swung wildly toward the east door, studiously ignoring them.

“Thanks Jensen,” Genevieve whispered, her voice sounded watery. “I know I’m not as advanced as you guys, it’s just, I really try, you know?”

Jensen winked his bluetooth link light at her. “I know Gen. Don’t worry about Danneel, underneath all those rough gyros is a real pussycat.”

“I can still hear you, fish eye. Keep it up and you’ll see my claws.”

Jensen whirred around, taking his eye off the vault to look at Danneel.

“Jeeze Danni, you don’t have to be so mean, we’re all on the same wall…. Hey wait, did you see that? We’ve got intruders.” Jensen’s lens went wide. He’d only been here a year and hadn’t seen action like this before.

“Damn it, you’re right. Notifying HQ.” Danneel snarled and swung her visor down, all business. “I think we have ourselves a six man crew, and they’re armed. Focus, everyone.”

Jensen zoomed in, and hoped the security monitoring his feed would notice. Sometimes Chad wasn’t the most diligent guard in the world, especially if Kane was out on lunch. Inspiration struck and he started to shut his bluetooth on and off. The disrupted signal would ping the main security station as well as the local one. Someone somewhere should notice.

“Oh my God, Jensen, we’re being robbed, and it’s not even ten o’clock!” Genevieve wailed, squeezing her lens tightly closed.

“Stay calm, Gen.” Jensen’s voice deepened with command and he swiveled to zoom in on each of the robbers and get good stills of each perp. Doing a quick rewind, Jensen analyzed his feed and watched them when they first entered the bank. No help there, unfortunately, as they had all donned various coloured balaclavas just before entering Jensen’s field of vision.

Back in real time, Jensen saw one was now posted at the main doors, which had been secured with a thick chain and lock. Another was guarding the few customers in the bank at opening, and two more were at the counter, supervising the clerks emptying their tills into black bags, and one was headed straight toward the vault. He was tall and thin and something about him was just a bit scary, his voice when he spoke was oily and nasal and Jensen bumped up his volume to better catch his conversation for later identification.

“Mr. Blue, where are you on the surveillance.” The nasal voice drawled. The sixth person in the crew, a shorter, more heavy set man was positioned over by the far wall. When he answered, his voice had a rather thick British accent.

“On it, Black.” The man grunted in effort as he swung an aluminum baseball bat at Colin, mounted over the teller’s line. There was an ugly metallic grinding sound and sparks flew as Colin was torn from his brackets and flung to the floor.

“Just four more to go,” Mr. Blue crowed triumphantly.

“Hurry, time’s wasting.” Mr. Black stepped closer to the vault and started to manipulate the large lock. Jensen had swivel to get himself pointed straight down to keep the man in view.

Another smash, this time closer, and a Williams 4000 went crashing to the ground. Genevieve started to cry, her visor spinning wildly on its mount in panic. “They’re going to kill us all, Jensen!”

Jensen however was keeping cool, busy zooming in on details, catching a bit of a pentagram tattoo peeking out from Mr. Black’s gloved hands, and close ups on eye colour for later identification.

Mr. Black glanced up and stared directly into his lens, his creepy, pale blue eyes the only thing visible on his face through the covering. “Think you have a chance in hell of catching us? Think again.” Mr. Black’s voice was oily and dark and a shiver of fear traveled up Jensen’s mounting bracket.

“Oh God, I’m next, Jensen!” Genevieve screamed and Jensen pivoted just in time to see Mr. Blue swing at her with a vengeance. He saw Genevieve’s slender, unreinforced body fall to the ground, her slim white aluminum casing folded almost in half from the force of the blow. There was an ugly snap as her main lens hit the floor and Jensen watched in horror as her power light faded.

“Oh my, an Ackles 3000. One of them cost me five years in the slammer, I’ll have you know. This one’s personal.” Mr. Blue tapped the bat in his other hand in anticipation.

“No, get over there and take out the one covering the door first. I don’t want police having advance knowledge of who we have posted there,” Mr. Black ordered, as he attached several wires and a black box to the vault key code.

“Will do.” Through the knit balaclava over Mr. Blue’s face Jensen could still see the man grinning. “You’re next, sweetheart.”

Danni glanced quickly back at Jensen. “Jensen, I….”

Jensen swallowed and his wiper did an unaccustomed swipe over his front view screen. “Stay strong Danni. The police are coming.”

“Jensen, I just wanted you to know…”

“Yes,” Jensen stared into Danneel’s red tinged lens. His motor was pounding a million miles a minute in it’s housing and Mr. Blue’s bat was swinging toward her slim, titanium shell body.

“I should have had top position.” She spat out bitterly before Mr. Blue’s bat shattered her mounting bracket and she was sent flying toward the floor.

Jensen watched as Danni’s titanium housing hit the marble floor. He heard an ominous crack, but she was already rebounding into the air. Jensen could see her working furiously to change the angle of her fall as her backup failed and her power light began to dim. With her last dying breath, Danni came down on Mr. Blue’s foot, eliciting a thunderous roar from the man.

“Bloody Hell, the little git! I’m sure it did that on purpose. Blimy,” Blue screamed, hopping up and down on one leg and moaning.

Crouched before the vault, Mr. Black barely spared a glance at Blue. He let out a wheezing sigh of success and spun the handle on the vault’s lock. The vault door swung open with a soft hiss, and Black’s nasal voice announced, “Finish the last, we have two minutes before the cops arrive.”

The two men who had been cleaning out the tellers appeared beside Mr. Black. “All ready, boss.”

Mr. Blue continued to hop around on one leg holding his foot.

“It’s all yours, boys.” Mr. Black’s lips curled into what might have been a smile through the slash in his balaclava. With a flourish, he waved his skeletally thin arm, gesturing the men inside. He looked at Jensen, and said pointedly to the still swearing Blue. “Mr. Blue, if you would be so kind?”

“It would be my immense pleasure.” Mr. Blue’s lips peeled back to show his teeth as he limped over and hefted his bat. Jensen had time for one last warning ping and to email out a quick note he had pre-written to his parents in an event of a catastrophic event like this.

The bat slammed into his housing. For a moment nothing happened, and Jensen’s stabilization motors fluttered with joy.

“Bugger.” Mr. Blue spat on the ground and took another swing at him, and everything Jensen knew went dark.

: : :

“…Let see if the power came on this time. Boy, this little guy and his friends have been through the wringer. What did you say happened to it?” A young man’s voice came from somewhere close to his housing and Jensen could feel the distinctive twist of marrettes being applied to his main power cord.

Somehow, unbelievably, he was still alive!

“Bank robbery over at the main branch on B street. I got the four of them in on salvage, I was hoping you could get them all back up and running.” An older, gruffer voice spoke from somewhere behind Jensen.

“Poor little guy,” Jensen was hefted into the air and spun around as full power returned to his system and his lens flared opened. He was staring directly into the concerned face of a young Asian man, early twenties if Jensen had to guess. He tried to focus but his gears kept grinding and he couldn’t adjust his zoom.

“Well I can get this one back up and running, but it’ll never be the same without replacing most of the guts. There’s been too much torque on the housing.” The young man shook hair out of his eyes and stared at Jensen thoughtfully as he laid him back down. “Everything’s bent. Bluetooth and Ethernet hookups are still fine, but I don't think its focus will ever be what it was.”

Jensen blinked and could feel his gears grind at the effort. Where was he? He looked around, this wasn’t the bank. Instead of the well lit, white marble halls of the bank he found himself lying on a scarred, worn, wooden work bench in a small cramped room. On either side of him, the room was lined with shelf after shelf of small bins and clear plastic drawers filled with hundreds of small parts. The Asian man swung a light with a round bulb and a magnifying glass at its center over him. The man’s big brown eye appeared in the glass and peered at him curiously.

Jensen’s vision blurred suddenly as everything came back to him in a flood, Gen, Danni, Mr. Black, Mr. Blue, the robbery. He had been hurt, and now… this.

“I gotta say son, I was hoping for better news, this was a top of the line system. What about the others?”

“Sorry, but there’s not much hope for three of them, the titanium case you can probably at least recycle for the metal and use the rest for parts. This one’s the only one that’s really fixable. Without spending a lot of money I can get it up fast. If you want to spend more I can probably get it up to factory spec, but we’re talking a lot.”

“Balls! You’re killing me, Osric. Sounds like I’m going to be lucky if I break even, here.”

Jensen blinked and refocused on the other speaker an older man with a battered ball cap on his head as he stepped into view.

“Okay then, fix what you can on this one, but no expensive upgrades. And recycle the others. At least I only paid a couple of hundred for the lot. Worse case, I’ve got a customer on P street who will take this one off my hands if you can get the picture in focus and at least a two times zoom.”

Osric snapped the magnifying light off, leaving Jensen blinking, followed the man to the door, and flicked off the switch. Jensen was plunged into darkness. The last thing he heard before the door closed was, “Okay Mr. Beaver. I can have it ready for you in a couple of days.”

Jensen lay on the work bench for a long, long time, stunned at the sudden turn of events. Yesterday he was top camera in one of the highest rated national banks, and now he was a handicapped discard and all his friends were lying dead in a recycle bin.

Lubricant threatened to fog his lens and Jensen squeezed his lens tightly closed as emotion swamped him. One lonely drop of lubricant streamed down his faceplate.

He was truly alone.

: : :

The next few days went by in a blur. Thinking back on it, Jensen didn’t remember much except that Osric was tireless in his attempts to get Jensen’s gear ratio as straight as possible and his housing pounded back to near factory perfect. He even managed to get him back to three times zoom. Not his former state of the art four, but better than nothing. By the time Mr. Beaver came to collect him, Jensen had almost managed to convince himself he was ready for the next stage of his life.

That was until he found himself ratcheted onto the housing bracket on the bright pink signature wall of a Gas and Gulp.

: : :

Outrage and shock sparked along his housing as he focused and refocused again and again. He checked his power circuit but this wasn’t an outage or a some kind of weird black out. He, an Ackles 3000, had been relegated to security at a Gas ‘n’ Gulp. He forced himself to calm and surveyed his surroundings. A black haired man in a blue vest leaned into his view and stared into his lens, the expression in his cornflower blue eyes concerned. The man did some last minute adjustments to his mounting bracket before tapping him on the head. “Looking good. Hopefully you’ll stop the truckers from taking a whiz in the back alley instead of getting the lavatory key.” The man grimaced and climbed down the ladder, leaving Jensen to his mount on the Pepto Bizmo Pink wall.

He spied Beaver talking to the dark haired man who had secured him to his bracket. He wore a blue vest with a name tag on it. Jensen zoomed in, the tag said ‘Misha.’ The men shook hands and parted without a second glance at Jensen. At the same time, a big, smelly eighteen-wheeler pulled up to the pumps and idled.

Jensen watched as an overweight trucker made his way out of the cab and across the asphalt to the Gas and Gulp premises, with its bright neon signs and signs flapping in the breeze, The man soon exited the store with a long piece of wood painted in tiger stripes and made his way around the side of the building to the back. Using the key at the end of the long stick the man opened a door and disappeared inside.

Jensen closed his lens. Had he seriously sunk this low? From top-flight security to guarding the bathrooms at a Gas ‘n’ Gulp? Jensen’s head fell and he stared unseeing at the litter-covered asphalt below.

Maybe it would have been better for him to go out in a blaze of glory with his friends. At least he would have gone down fighting. Now he had years and years to look forward to here at the bottom of the barrel.

“Hey there cute stuff, what’s your name.” a voice with a cultured British accent spoke to his right.

Jensen turned to look, but could find no one there.

“Hello?” Jensen said tentatively, wondering if the fumes from the urinal cakes were already starting to get to him.

“Around the corner love. You can’t see me, but I saw Misha carrying you around the corner. Seb’s the name, DeRocher100.”

Jensen whistled in appreciation. The DeRocher 100 was one of the early models, on par with his mom and dad. Built in France and exported to America, these early models were specifically designed for outdoor surveillance.

“Yes darlin’ I know what you’re thinking. I’m as old as Methuselah compared to you young thing. What model are you, I didn’t recognize your line?”

“The Ackles 3000, high end security system.”

“Ah, I thought I heard a slight Texas accent, one of Kripke’s creations. What brings you here to our little neck of the woods, love?”

“Ah, bank robbery gone wrong, I guess.”

“Ah, a path which, sadly, so many before you have followed. I, on the other hand, have never strayed from this spot. I have spent my entire life here. But I have tried to convince myself that this backward little metropolis I have found myself in is a lot like Paris: sooner or later everyone goes through the Gas ‘n’ Gulp’s door. It’s been an endless source of fascinating stories.”

Yeah, for the guy mounted over the front door, maybe, Jensen thought grimly. Seb wasn’t relegated to watching the bathroom door of a truck stop.

A soft hum of rotors made him swing sideways. To his right, mounted on the very same wall as Jensen was one of the most beautiful security cameras he’d ever seen. Bigger than Jensen and mounted on a large base, the Camera out weighed him by at least a pound. It had state of the art Teflon coating and a double redundant power hookup, and even a battery backup. Its casing had a fluid laminate that sparkled in the sun, and when Jensen caught a glimpse of the camera’s lens, it sparkled in a party pack of hues, definitely full range spectrum vision. Jensen was breathless.

“I take it from your boggled silence you’ve just met your other neighbor?” Seb let out a dry chuckled, “Gorgeous piece of work, isn’t our Moose?”

“Moose?” Jensen squeaked, and had to release a little oil on his internal siren to wet his internal speaker.

Jensen angled his head, taking in the larger, handsome camera, but it was looking away.

“Don’t take it personally if he doesn’t talk to you, darling. He’s a war vet, too. Took one to the communications unit shortly after arriving here, during a hold up. He can’t speak, now or send audio files or data. Misha won’t spare the cash to repair him since his camera still works perfectly. Cheap bastard. His name is Jared though, and before he was hurt, he was a gregarious, friendly sort. He’s a Pada3000. Contemporary of yours, I believe. Doesn’t the Kripke Corporation make both your lines? Anyway, Jared was built for military use. He had been serving in the Pentagon before 9/11, he said. After his wing of the building was damaged by the plane crash, he was sold off as excess stock, but he escaped without a scratch only to have some gang-banger take out his voice.”

“Oh. Um sorry. Jensen… I’m Jensen.” He glanced over at the Pada3000, but it was still staring resolutely away from him. Jensen sighed. Melancholy over his own situation was starting to creep in after the excitement and disappointment of being resituated.

“So tell us more love, where have you been, what have you seen? I must hear it all.”

“You know Seb, maybe another time. I’m a little tired right now. I think for the moment I’d rather concentrate on my job.”

“Oh no, another one. Well I’m here, love, whenever you want to chat. The nights get long, here on the wall.”

Jensen heard the soft hum of a rotor off to the side and through the corner of his lens, could see Jared take a quick glance at him and then look away.

Jensen sympathized. To go from the Pentagon to here was quite the drop, too. Clicking on all his sensors and doing a start up check, Jensen let himself became lost in the routine of the job.

Jensen hadn’t realized what a funk he had fallen into when it was a full two weeks before he spoke again. Seb chatted and told funny stories, but fortunately there were several cameras situated over the pumps and Jensen never felt any pressure to join in. He went through his regular routine zooming in and taking close ups of persons of interest, pinging Misha when something untoward started up. He missed Gen and Danni. Even emailing or chatting with his parents over the net was spotty because of the Gas 'n' Gulp's basic internet service. It was almost as bad as dial up. Seriously, how cheap were these guys? Jensen’s depression with his new situation continued to deepen. He chafed at his inability to four times zoom, and his duty station watching the men’s rooms seemed so far beneath his capabilities he often wanted to scream.

It was only in the darkest hours of the night when he would allow himself to cry, droplets of lubricant dripping down over his casing. Misha would notice it every once in a while and, tutting, would climb the ladder and top him up again.

The weeks flew by and Jensen became numb to the routine of the job and the surrounding silence became choking. In less busy moments at the station, Jensen found himself watching Jared. Somehow, looking at the bigger camera made him feel a little less lonely and sad. Jared was efficient too, and moved it’s large frame with an almost feline grace that Jensen quickly came to admire. He especially liked with the sun reflected off Jared’s faceplate, there were so many colours in his prismatic lens.

And he thought Jared might be just a little interested in him, too. Jensen had caught him, on more than one occasion, glancing his way. But if Jensen looked over, Jared would quickly look away.

Somehow Jared’s furtive glances piqued Jensen’s interest, and it became a goal of his to catch Jared in the act. Jared was wily though, all that department of defense training going to good use, and Jensen had a hard time catching him in the act. It became a real game between them, Jensen to capture, Jared to evade.

It was a beautiful sunny afternoon and Jensen had just tried to fake Jared out and catch him looking when he realized suddenly that here on this sun drenched day, for the first time in a long time, Jensen was content. Which was totally ludicrous because… Gas ‘n’ Gulp. Jensen snorted softly, his lens crinkling at the corners now since the four times zoom was broken. It was when he heard a particularly overweight trucker fart on his way to the restroom that he lost it. Somehow, crazily, he was okay with that, with all of this with the Gas ‘n’ Gulp with Seb and Gabriel and Elias over on the pumps. Happiness bubbled up through him and Jensen threw back his camera and laughed. Outright, full tilt laughed.

It was only as he finally stopped laughing minutes later that he realized he was being watched. He looked warily over to his left and startled a little. Jared staring at him and didn’t look away. He looked like he’d been staring at him a while and all Jensen could do was stare back. Then both of them started to smile.

From that day on something shifted. Jared changed his surveillance routine to fall in sync with Jensen’s, fitting their routines with effortless ease. Late at night Jensen even started to sing. He hadn’t sung in a long time, but with Jared staring so patiently at him, his camera titled, lens aimed right at him, Jensen found his voice.

: : :

It was another sunny day at the Gas ‘n’ Gulp, and Jensen thought maybe he had never been more relaxed. He and Jared had foiled a drug sale in the side lot the night before, and as a reward, Misha had climbed up the ladder and washed them.

Jensen was mid routine when he heard a voice he hadn’t in a long time.

“Bloody hell, I got something on my shoe.”

Jensen pivoted his visor. Mr. Blue was standing in the middle of the gas pumps trying to scrape gum or some other substance off a shiny patent leather shoe.

“Sheppard, please spare me. Go to the bathroom and clean it off. I beg of you.” A nasal drawl coming from inside a black suburban pulled up at the pumps made Jensen’s wires curl. He zoomed in, as far as his three times zoom would go, but he couldn’t quite penetrate the gloom.

“Jared quick, the black suburban, that’s the bank robber who took me down. Can you get in close and get pictures of him and the license plate? I’ll follow the other guy and call security.”

Jensen refocused on Mr. Blue as he tapped into the security net. It wasn’t something he did often but every once in a while, when Misha was chatting up some customer for just a little too long or logging on to his favorite porn site. Jensen would bypass Misha’s station and log on himself and go directly to the main security headquarters and call in for help himself using Misha’s code.

Fortunately right now, Misha was logged on and was in deep in discussion from someone on the ‘Angel board’ and Jensen was able to slip onto the internet.

He was sure he’d taken some pretty accurate voice and image samples of Mr. Blue and Mr. Black previously. He logged into head office’s main files and sure enough there were the robbery files. He flagged them and then sent a notice pairing them with the feeds and stills coming in from the Gas ‘n’ Gulp.

  
Jensen grinned as he watched Mr. Blue limp toward the bathroom holding the long tiger stripped key in his hand. It would have made Danni very happy to know she’d made a lasting impression

Mr. Blue looked up at him at grumbled. “What the hell are you looking at, mate? Didn’t you ever see a man with gum on his shoe? Bloody wanker.”

Jensen took another few shots for posterity and then glanced over at Jared to see how he was doing. Jared nodded furiously and Jensen grinned. “I sent in an alert, they should be here in no time.”

To say it was satisfying to see Mr. Blue, AKA Mark Sheppard, bent over the hood of a police cruiser as they handcuffed and mirandized him, was an understatement. Even the processing of Mr. Black AKA Christopher Heyerdahl made Jensen grin, although shivers of unease still flooded his system simply looking at the man.

“Darling,” Seb coo’d “You’re a bona fide hero. I heard Misha say these two are on Interpol’s ten most wanted list. International diamond thieves, or something like that. Misha’s getting a rating bump, and his Gas ‘n’ Gulp is going to be featured in next month’s newsletter. He’s the franchise owner of the month, and all thanks to you, you green eyed devil, you.” Seb snorted with glee.

Jensen grinned. He didn’t care if Misha got all the credit. He had got his revenge. The men who had killed his friends and disabled him were going down.

: : :

It was the next day that found Misha up on the ladder again beside Jensen, unscrewing his outer housing.

“I don’t know how you guys did it, but I know it was you. All the shots came from this vantage point. But I’m not going to look a gift horse or camera in the mouth. I got you a little something.” Misha pulled on something and Jensen suddenly went blind. He jerked and Misha said. “Patience, it’ll be worth it.” A few more screws were undone and a bit more tinkering, and suddenly Jensen could see. Misha bobbed his head in front of Jensen’s lens. “There, new optical unit. Cost a pretty penny, but I can’t have my best cameras not at their peak performance.”

Jensen swiveled around and checked his focus and instead of a slight creak between zooms, it was now smooth as silk. Jensen blinked in surprise as he realized he could see the farthest sign on the lot, his four times zoom was fixed. He grinned with joy.

“And don’t think you are forgotten my friend. It cost me even more and some might think I’m a little off my rocker, but I got you a new communications unit. We were lucky that the Ackles 3000 communications unit got good audio on those thieves last night, but I’d rather both of you were on the job next time.”

Misha laboriously climbed down the ladder, repositioned it and climbed up beside Jared. After long minutes of tinkering, he rebuttoned Jared’s larger housing case and tapped him on the hood.

“There. Your siren should work, and you’ll be able to send in independent alerts now. Should really have done that from the start. Shouldn't have been so cheap.”

Jensen was bubbling with excitement as Misha slowly packed up his tools. He could hardly wait until the man made his way back inside the Gas ‘n’ Gulp.

“So…” Jensen stared wide-eyed at Jared. He couldn’t wait to hear him speak for the same time.

“Oh man… it’s been so long.” Jared coughed and Jensen was surprised to hear a little Texas in Jared’s voice. The Pada line had been built in the same factory in Austin as the Ackles.

“I’m Jared. Glad to meet you, Jensen.” Jared’s voice was deep and smooth, easy on the circuits.

“Me too…. I mean officially. Hi!” Jensen breathed out, his wires quivering as he reached out through his communications node to ping Jared directly.

“Jensen, I hope this doesn’t come out as too forward, but I think maybe I’m just a little in love with you,” Jared beamed, his prismatic lens sparkling.

Jensen blinked, his speaking flap hanging open for a moment, then he started to smile, a warm, delicious sensation pouring through him as Jared came online and accepted his connection.

“It’s okay Jare, because I think I’m more than a little in love with you too.”  
  
  
  
^^ And of course you know I always want to hear your comments, no matter when you read this story.


End file.
